


The Things His Mouth Can Do

by prescellphone



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Oral, Smut, eat her out illya, gallya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prescellphone/pseuds/prescellphone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaby needs some quality girl talk and Napoleon and Illya are out of the question. A target on a mission will work just fine for her though.</p><p>Music: Coming Down by Halsey and Sweet Love by Chris Brown</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things His Mouth Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> Ehhh, I'm not a big fan of this one at all. But I decided I should post it anyway. I had this whole idea about Gaby getting tired of living with two guys all the time, but I forgot where I was going and it just kind of...didn't happen. So this is the result. Once again, I'm my biggest critic so it might not be that bad.

     

* * *

 

       "Napoleon! Get in here!" 

       Sharing a look with Illya, Napoleon stood up, pacing over to the bathroom and leaning against the door jamb. Gaby stood in the midnight blue dress chosen by Illya earlier, her back to him. Napoleon had to give Illya credit, the completely open back of the dress looked stunning with Gaby's curled hair falling over her shoulder blades.

       "I have one rule. The tiniest, easiest thing in the entire world. And what is it, Illya?"

       Gaby raised her voice as she turned around, her hands on her hips.

       Illya grumbled from the other room, "Put the toilet seat down."

       Holding her hands up, Gaby centered her small glare on Napoleon. She stepped to the side and pointed a hand at the toilet where the seat was indeed still up. Napoleon fixed his sleeves, pulling them down past his white jacket's cuffs.

      "So sorry. I'm used to living on my own. Although, I do admire that you have Peril so well trained."

      Gaby crossed her arms, "He's sometimes more of a gentleman than you are Napoleon."

      "With that, I terribly disagree."

       Illya appeared behind Napoleon, his dark suit contrasting nicely with his blonde hair and blue eyes.

      "Watch it, Cowboy."

       Napoleon let him slide past to get to the sink, "Not very polite, Peril." 

       Gaby rolled her eyes. She was getting tired of only talking and living with men. She loved her boys dearly and enjoyed their company, but every once in while, she felt a sudden urge to have someone to talk about everything she couldn't say to Napoleon and Illya. Napoleon was willing to talk about literally anything, but the thought of admitting that her period cramps sometimes made her want to kill a man wasn't Gaby's idea of a good time. She's sure Napoleon would love to chat about it, but Gaby got nauseous at the idea.

       Illya was no doubt out of the question, considering most of the time Gaby needed someone to talk to  _about_  him. Napoleon was once again more than willing, but Gaby didn't want to give him the satisfaction. She could imagine his smirk the moment she would mention Illya's name.

       She just needed girl talk. She only had one friend in Berlin, and it was all she needed. Maybe she could find some bored widow or bachelorette to chat up on the mission tonight.

       Sighing, Gaby moved next to Illya, grabbing her toothbrush. Illya held up the toothpaste, his mouth already foamy with his toothbrush in it. Gaby always loved watching Illya doing such domestic things. Most people didn't think about how the Red Peril brushed his teeth, they were usually noticing his terrifying height and stern face before being brutally killed. Gaby liked that she got to see the man behind the nickname. 

       Holding her toothbrush out, Gaby let him spread the paste across it. Napoleon fixed his white suit while they stood next to each other, elbows bumping each other. They spit together and as Gaby stood back up, she watched as Illya's tongue flicked out and licked the excess toothpaste from the corners of his mouth. She stood in a trance until Illya accidentally elbowed her again. Washing off her brush, Gaby caught Napoleon's knowing smirk in the mirror as Illya left the bathroom. She hated that smirk.

 

        Later in the evening, Gaby stood at a small table, a flute of champagne in her hand. Napoleon and Illya were on the dance floor with their respective partners. Luckily for this mission, the targets were two sisters smuggling weapons and looking for future husbands, so Gaby was finally free to relax and simply observe.

        Napoleon's flashy white suit immediately caught her attention. It surprisingly worked nicely with his partner's platinum blonde hair and gold dress. As Gaby watched, the woman threw her head back, a laugh used to show off the diamonds wrapped around her neck. If this wasn't a mission, Gaby knew Napoleon would eat her up. She was exactly his type. 

        Sipping her champagne, Gaby was pleased to see Illya and the other sister didn't compliment each other as well as Napoleon and his partner. Granted, this sister had been known to have an interest in tall men and she had gotten exactly that. She wore wickedly high heels, allowing her to be eye level with him and show off her long legs. She looked completely smitten with his small talk and dance moves.

        Gaby groaned internally. Was this what it was like to have to watch her all night? She decided she preferred to be dancing with some random man than having to watch the boys convince sisters that they were worthy husbands for two hours. 

        Gaby was about head to the bathroom so she wouldn’t have to think about Illya’s hands sitting on the girl’s waist, when she was stopped by a woman’s voice.

       "What is a girl like you doing over here?" 

        A woman with long blonde hair in a glittering black dress leaned against the table next to Gaby. Her hands were full of rings, a particularly large rock on her left hand. Gaby smiled politely.

        "Looking for trouble."

        The woman drank deeply from her glass, "Now, that's what I like to hear. Which one of these rich, handsome men are you eyeing? I can tell you if they're worth the trouble or not."

         Gaby realized then she was talking to the host of the party, Violet Lynch. She remembered her picture among the files given to them to study. Obviously, Violet would know everything about the guests dancing on the floor, even Gaby’s partners. 

         Reaching for another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, Gaby grinned sheepishly, trying to seem flustered.

         "Well, I've been watching the handsome one with the dark hair." 

          Violet raised an eyebrow, "Oh, the one with my dear niece Maggie? Well, I've heard he's quite the gentleman, practically made of money, and to be honest, I've heard lots of rumors about him being an amazing lover. If my Maggie doesn't nab him, I would go for it darling." 

          Gaby sipped her champagne, trying to decide if she could trust this woman. Her alcohol addled brain decided it was a safe bet. She saw Illya lead his date away, hopefully to get all the information he needed. Gaby released a heavy breath.

          "He is handsome, but my thoughts have been stuck on another that isn't here tonight."

           Violet smiled, ready for more gossip, "Tell me about him." 

           Gaby blushed then. It had been so long since she had had a talk like this. Her mouth felt numb when she started to speak.

           "He's...quite tall."

           Violet nodded for her to continue.

         "Very handsome but in a more subdued way. He's polite but can lose his temper easily, although never at me."

         "So what's the issue, darling?"

          Gaby watched Napoleon go up the stairs, Maggie walking eagerly next to him. She had about ten minutes, maybe less with Napoleon's skills. She pretended a soft sigh.

         "I'm not sure if he likes me back."

           It was halfway true. Gaby definitely left out the part about her thoughts swirling around a mouth with toothpaste on the corners. And that same mouth pressing kisses to her thighs. The heavy breath she let escape was not faked.

           Violet and Gaby stood in silence, sipping their drinks as people danced by the table. A few minutes had passed before Violet spoke again.

          "Well, sweetie, I think you should give it a shot. Men are oblivious to all things romantic. Tell him how you feel and if it was meant to be then it will happen. But in the meantime, I say you go after that young man, he's been looking for a dance partner for a bit now.”

           Following Violet's gaze, Gaby noticed Illya leaning against a table, the sister nowhere to be found. His eyes scanned the room, surely looking for her or Napoleon. 

           Smiling kindly, she placed her champagne on the table and kissed Violet's cheeks lightly.

          "Thank you for the talk, Madam Lynch. I think I shall."

           Gaby felt a thousand pounds lighter as she made her way to Illya. Sidling up to him, Gaby grinned when he glanced down at her.

          "How's your night?" 

           He shifted, before he pulled her into a dance, "Everything went well. Cowboy?" 

           Gaby ignored his warm palm on her lower back, "With the sister. I'm assuming he'll be here in a couple minutes."

           "If he doesn't get too distracted." 

           "Oh? Did you think the sisters were a nice distraction?"

            Illya glanced at her, "No. Too blonde."

            Casually, Gaby squeezed his arm, "I didn't know you had a preference."

            Illya wetted his lips before replying. Gaby missed his words while her mind centered around his mouth. It didn't go unnoticed.

Illya smiled and didn't repeat the sentence for her.

          They danced for a few minutes and yet Napoleon still did not appear. As seconds ticked by, Gaby was getting more and more bothered by her proximity to the Russian.

 Illya finally dropped his hands after another minute, giving Gaby his arm to hold.

          "I think this will take a while. Let's go back to the hotel."

          Gaby was glad to leave the party, her thoughts running wild. Violet's advice was repeating over and over in her head as they took a cab back to the hotel. 

          When they reached their room, Gaby watched Illya loosen his tie and undo the top buttons of his shirt. She fell onto the couch, a magazine pulled in front of her face.

          Peeking over the top, her eyes wandered over Illya’s figure while he poured himself a glass of vodka. Napoleon was taking too long and Gaby’s patience was running low.

          Moving to the couch, Illya lightly tapped Gaby’s feet, making her pull them against herself so he could sit on the couch. Putting the magazine back up, she slid her feet slowly forward until they rested against his thigh. He didn’t react, but Gaby heard the clink of his glass on the table and a chess piece scrap against the board. She flipped the page despite not reading anything.

          A half an hour passed and Napoleon still hadn’t showed. Gaby had run out of magazines to fake read so she reached for one she had already read on the table. She scooted farther down on the couch, crossing her ankles in his lap as she skimmed through the magazine. Illya didn’t seemed fazed as he stared at the chessboard.

         Gaby had actually been reading an article when she felt Illya’s hand touch her ankle. Her eyes froze on the page. Breathing calmly, she pretended not to notice, until his finger ran across the top of her foot before inching up to stop mid-way up her calf. Moving the magazine down slightly, she looked over the edge to see Illya idly running his fingers over her leg as he gazed at the chessboard. Gaby felt her body heat up.

         Her throat was dry, “Illya.”

         His hand stilled as he looked up innocently.

         She swallowed, “Can you stop?”

         His mouth formed a small smirk as his hand continued up her calf, pausing at the back of her knee. Magazine forgotten on Gaby’s chest, Illya’s eyes never left hers when he leaned forward. Gaby pulled her knees up and back towards herself, trying to give herself some space and failing quickly. His chest hit her knees and a knowing gleam to his eyes made Gaby’s stomach twist. Was she that obvious at the party?

        With his hands gripping the back of her knees, Illya kneeled on the floor, twisting her with him so her back was flush against the couch. Letting one leg rest on the couch, her foot brushing the floor, lllya’s hand held her other knee level with his eyes. Gaby’s eyes fluttered as his lips barely brushed the inner part of her knee.

        “Illya…” Gaby breathed out, her hands pressed straight down into the couch.

        “Yes?” His mouth slid over her knee and a hand ran down her calf. She tried to order her thoughts as his other hand holding the back of her knee skimmed farther up her thigh.

         She could only mutter out one word, “Napoleon.”

         Illya’s lips smiled against her skin, “He’s busy.”

         Gaby accepted it. Her hands seizing the hair on the back of his head and pulling him up, she crashed his lips to hers. It was messy and hurried, Gaby ruining Illya’s perfectly styled hair and Illya’s hands sliding her dress up her thighs. Leaving wet kisses on her neck, Illya trailed his lips down to her chest until he skipped down to her legs. He pressed hot kisses to her thighs, moving up to let his lips sweep across her inner thigh. Gaby scooted down on the couch, placing her legs on his shoulders eagerly. His hands held her hips when he looked up at her.

         Gaby nodded and Illya gave her a small smile. With her hand tangled in his hair, Gaby watched Illya’s mouth disappear between her legs. Sighing deeply, Gaby was happy to put his mouth to good use.

 

         Napoleon strolled up the stairs late in the night, his jacket hanging over his arm. He hadn’t planned to stay so long, but Maggie had been more than he anticipated.

         Stopping outside the trio’s shared hotel room, he was looking forward to getting some rest when his hand froze on the door knob. Through the door, he could barely make out Gaby’s soft voice creating needy gasps. Napoleon heard her mutter Illya’s name weakly before he turned away. Waverly better be willing to share his room, he thought.

 

         The next morning, Illya and Gaby sat outside a small café, waiting for Napoleon. In the sunlight, Illya’s turtleneck didn’t cover the purple marks placed on his neck.

         Gaby shifted in her seat when she saw Napoleon making his way over to them from across the street.

        “Good morning,” Napoleon smiled as he sat down, immediately asking for a tea when the waitress came by. Illya asked for some a coffee and a muffin when the waitress turned to him.

         Napoleon gave him a look as he crossed his legs. Illya met his stare after the waitress left.

        “What is it, Cowboy?”

         Napoleon shrugged innocently, “Nothing, I just thought you would still be full from last night.”

         Gaby’s face burned and Illya dropped his eyes, suddenly interested in his empty coffee cup. Napoleon finally had new material to tease Illya with.

 

 


End file.
